


Ability Check, Please!

by soliduck



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Adventurer AU, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Beyoncé is an Archfey and Bitty's patron, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Fey!Dex, Fighter!Jack, Forgotten Realms Elements, M/M, Warlock!Bitty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2020-07-28 18:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20068906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliduck/pseuds/soliduck
Summary: Eric is a warlock in need of a new adventuring party, and his familiar Dex convinces him to check out The Yawning Portal Inn. There he has a run in with Jack Zimmermann, who happens to be in the market for a new spellcaster for his band of adventurers.The attraction is immediate, but is that a solid basis for deciding who to get into life threatening danger with?





	1. Chapter 1

As Eric’s consciousness slowly drifted towards wakefulness, he became dimly aware of the room around him. He was snug and warm in the bed, which was piled so high with fluffy blankets that only a sliver of his face was peeking out. The pale morning light streamed in through the window and fell gently on his closed eyes. He breathed sleepily and could make out hints of pleasant, familiar smells—woodsmoke and fresh baked bread. He hovered on the cusp of waking for several long minutes, dozing contentedly.

Then he remembered.

Four days ago, he had arrived in Waterdeep—the City of Splendors—with his adventuring companions.

Three days ago, he had woken up filled with excitement to explore the city, only to find their rooms empty and all their belongings gone.

Two days ago, he realized that they weren’t coming back.

Yesterday he had climbed into bed, and he had yet to emerge. The innkeeper had been kind enough to bring meals up to him.

All the shame and despair over being abandoned so casually—without even a word or a note—came rushing back, and Eric let out a low groan and rolled onto his back, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. He had always been a bit of an outsider in the group, but he had thought that all those months on the road where they faced danger together would have counted for something.

_Maybe I’m just hopelessly naïve._ He supposed he should be happy that they waited until they had reached their destination before ditching him, but mostly he just felt sad. _At least I’m not totally alone._ The stillness of the room was disturbed by the flutter of delicate wings, and Eric felt the soft impact of tiny feet through the blankets covering him.

“Good, you’re awake. Get dressed, we’re going out today.”

Eric squinted up at his familiar, Dex, who was perched on his chest. His iridescent wings were at full attention, his hands were on his hips and his face was set with determination; it might have been an intimidating sight if Dex wasn’t only nine inches tall. He was a sprite, which meant he looked mostly like an elf writ small, but his exaggerated features would give away his fey nature even if his size and wings didn’t—his ears were a little too prominent, his hair too brilliantly orange, and his eyes were like burnished gold. His pale skin was dotted all over with dense spirals of freckles in a way that was both beautiful and strange.

Eric’s voice was still rough with sleep when he spoke, “Dex, I believe you may have some misapprehensions about which of us is in charge in this relationship.” He rolled over onto his side, petulantly dislodging the sprite, who nimbly flitted up into the air before settling cross legged on the pillow in Eric’s line of sight.

Dex crossed his arms over his lightly armored chest, “You’re being a sad sack, so I get to be in charge until you’ve got your head on straight.”

Eric rolled his eyes, “I think I’m allowed to be upset when I’ve been abandoned by almost all of my friends.”

“First of all? Those assholes were never your friends. They treated you like dirt and you only put up with it because you lack confidence and you grew up knowing each other. Inertia is a terrible reason to base who you get into dangerous situations with.”

Eric’s tried to muster some indignation on his own behalf but only managed to yawn, when he spoke his rustic Dale’s accent was thick. “This is a swell pep talk—real inspirin’.” 

Dex didn’t dignify that with a response, “Secondly, you’re better off without them. Seriously, I read their hearts, so you can trust me on this.” This statement was accompanied by significant finger wiggling, which Eric presumed was to indicate Dex’s ability to read someone’s inner nature by laying hands upon them. “They’re one bad week away from going feral. I won’t be in the least bit surprised if they manage to get kicked out of the city before winter is out.”

Eric sighed, “They did have a tendency to ruffle people’s feathers.”

Dex leaned forward and met Eric’s gaze pointedly, “Are you really going to miss having to clean up their messes?”

“I guess not.” Eric chewed on his lip thoughtfully, “I kinda still want to mope for another day though. Can I put off getting my act together for just a little longer?”

Dex shook his head, “We’ve got to be out of here by noon.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re almost out of money.”

“What?!” Eric’s eyes widened with shock. “What about the payoff for the escort job? My share was almost thirty gold.” You could live comfortably on that much for nearly a month, even in a city like Waterdeep.

“Remember? They convinced you to wait and split the money until the morning and then…”

“And then they left!” Eric sat bolt upright in his bed and felt his face flush with anger. His short blonde hair was wild from days of neglect and he was so outraged he could barely think. “Those… those…”

“Bastards? Shit weasels?” Dex fluttered up into the air and hovered at eye level in front of Eric.

“Those... ungrateful assholes! I’m the only reason we got that job!” Eric crossed his arms in a huff. His anger had an invigorating effect, pushing back the fog of negative emotions, but it was fading as quickly as it had come. Worry and fear were quick to take its place, and Eric looked plaintively at his friend.

“What are we gonna do?”

“We are going to find a new party. Hopefully this time without the assholes.”

Dex flew over to the bedside table and returned carrying a rolled-up piece of parchment, which he unfurled. It was an advertisement, the kind that people put up on signposts and bulletin boards. Written on it was:

The Yawning Portal

Welcomes

All Adventurers

Rainrun Street, Castle Ward

-Gateway to The Undermountain-

-Hire Adventurers-

-Join or Form a Party-

-Trade Information and Items-

“Is this what you were out doing yesterday?” Eric took the page and settled it in his lap, reading it over a few times.

Dex nodded.

_I could find another party, but what if they don’t respect me either? _It had been hard to get the measure of other adventuring groups during their travels, since the unrestrained egos of his own party invariably made rivals out of anyone they met. He had seen pity in some of their eyes when they had looked at him—at the time he had thought that were questioning why someone like him was getting involved in the dangerous business of adventuring, but now he wondered if they just saw how he was treated and thought he deserved better. Eric slumped over a little, resting his chin on his hand. His gaze was downcast and unfocused, “Maybe I should just give up on adventuring and get a job at a bakery.”

Dex landed in front of Eric and kicked him lightly in his blanket covered leg with one pointy boot. “You’re doubting yourself again. Quit it.”

Eric met Dex’s eyes briefly before his gaze skittered away to the window, “I can be kind of a liability—I’m useless if I get grabbed. That’s probably why everyone left.”

Dex scowled and hopped up the pile of blankets that covered Eric’s lap until he was right in his friend’s face, “You are a handpicked champion of The Flawless Queen. Are you doubting her wisdom?”

Eric leaned back, but kept his eyes averted and his voice soft, “She was pretty clear that I only had the potential to be a hero. That’s no guarantee.”

Dex planted his hands on his hips and flicked his wings in frustration, “Well, after watching you in action and reading your heart more times than I can count I’m sure about two things—you’ve got a genuine heroic spirit, and that would be wasted working in a bakery. Think of all the people you’ve helped!”

Eric sighed, and was finally able to meet Dex’s gaze, “You’re probably right.”

“I’m always right.”

Eric managed to muster a chuckle at that and started to climb out of bed, “Sure, Dex. Do you know how to get to this Yawning Portal place?”

“Yeah, I scouted it out yesterday. It’s not far.”

Eric hummed in consideration as he stretched out his back and limbs, which popped loudly in the quiet of the room, “I figure we should drop by this tavern and see what time everybody usually shows up. We might need to sell our last healing potion if we can’t find a cheaper inn. Not sure what to do after that.”

“Well, you wanted to explore the city before everything happened. I figured we could do that. The stuff I saw was pretty impressive for mortal work, but it doesn’t really rate compared to The Queen’s palace.”

“No, I guess it wouldn’t.” Eric began to strip off his two-day old undergarments and he moved over to the wash basin, where he did a simple spell to heat the water. He was of average height but compact with lithe muscle, and he was unselfconscious about being disrobed in front of his familiar. As he washed, he let his mind drift among memories of his time with The Flawless Queen.

He had gotten lost in the woods and stumbled across her entourage purely by accident, much to his initial consternation. He had heard plenty of stories about the fickle nature of the fey, and when he was brought before her there was no doubt in his mind that he faced one of the most powerful of their kind. Eric expected to be so overwhelmed by her raw aura of majesty and power that he would be unable to speak but found instead that the words came easily—he surprised himself with clever turns of phrase as he apologized for his intrusion and explained his predicament. The Queen must have been pleased by this, as she agreed to help him find his way back to his home in Featherdale in exchange for his conversation as they traveled. Eric soon discovered that The Flawless Queen was inspiration incarnate, and it didn’t take long in her presence before Eric was admitting to dreams that he had never given voice to—the desire to help people in a way that mattered, his dream of leaving home to find adventure and perhaps, if he was lucky, love. When the Queen offered him her blessings—magic, and an ally in Dex—in order to help make those dreams a reality, Eric had been eager to accept.

_It had all seemed so simple at the time. When did I lose that?_ The next hour passed quickly as Eric completed his ablutions and prepared to depart with Dex’s help. He cleaned his dirty clothes with magic and dressed warmly for the chill autumn wind that he knew would be blowing in from the ocean. He hung his spell component pouch over his left shoulder, and his Book of Shadows hung from his waist on his right. With some difficulty he crammed all of his various belongings into his backpack, which settled on his shoulders with only a modicum of clanking—he was carrying quite a bit of cookware. He paused in the common room to grab a quick breakfast, and to thank the innkeeper for indulging him the previous day (“Of course, dear! I do hope you’re feeling better!”). That done, he hurried out into the pale morning light in search of the next adventure.

* * *

Eric looked curiously up at the Yawning Portal inn—all three stories of it. It was built of stone, with a slate roof, and looked to be about as old as the other buildings in the area. It was also clearly labeled with a sign that hung from black iron chains above the door. As he watched, a group of three dwarves emerged from the inn, talking amongst themselves in dwarven. Eric swallowed down his nervousness and walked up to the door and entered.

Eric found himself in a large open space with wooden floors—it was pleasantly warm after the chilly autumn air, and the sunlight was streaming in through tall windows that faced the street, illuminating a bar along the left wall and a dozen or so tables with chairs scattered around the first floor. Eric’s attention was immediately drawn to the center of the spacious room, where there was what looked like a giant well—easily forty feet across—which was surrounded by a waist high barrier of bricks and descended who knows how deeply into the earth. The building was constructed so that there was a column of open space above the well, extending up to the second and third floor, and Eric could just make out more seating for patrons on the upper floors. Staircases spiraled around the pillars that supported the ceiling and dangling down from the top of the third floor was a rope and pulley system that descended into the depths.

“Do people go down there?” Eric wondered aloud as he approached the barrier and looked down into the pit. He could see about thirty feet down before everything was swallowed by darkness.

Dex landed on the edge of the barrier surrounding the hole in the floor and was peering down into it when a gruff voice boomed out from behind them.

“Entrance to the Undermountain is one gold per person, though I can’t in good conscience let you go down there by yourself.”

Dex flitted up to head height and let out an offended, “He’s not alone. He’s got me!”

Eric turned around and took in the barkeep, who was making a placating gesture. He was about a head taller than Eric and looked quite fit despite his greying hair. The man’s thickly muscled arms looked made for swinging swords, and Eric immediately pegged him as a retired adventurer. He continued speaking, with a little contrition in his voice.

“I’ve got the same objections for two as for one. Unless you’ve got a few more in your party out in the city somewhere?”

Eric walked over to the bar, which was empty of patrons except for one, down at the end. As he slipped off his pack, Eric spared them enough of a glance to make out pale skin, dark hair and gleaming silver armor. He settled himself on one of the bar stools and made introductions and exchanged a few polite niceties. The barkeep was actually the owner of the establishment, and his name was Durnan.

“‘As to your question, I’m afraid it’s just us at the moment.” Eric was wringing his hands below the bar top but still wearing his best ‘Please like me!’ smile. He pressed on, “That’s actually why we’re here. We saw your flyer and figured it coming here was a good way to meet some new people.”

“Could be, could be. How long have you been adventuring?”

“I’ve done a few quests here and there since I was sixteen, so for about two years now. But I’ve been doing this full time since I left home about six months ago.”

“You’re a spellcaster, right? What’s your best spell?”

“Well, my specialty is illusions and enchantments. My best trick is probably…” Eric hummed, considering, “Either making someone fly, or hypnotizing a bunch of people at once with an illusion.”

“Not too bad. You really made it this far with just the two of you?”

“I’ve been travelling with a group for the past six months, but…” Eric looked down—he had hoped to avoid explaining this. Despite Dex’s words of encouragement, he still felt quite a bit of shame over being left behind, and he wasn’t keen on sharing that with someone he just met.

Dex cut in, crossing his arms and daring anyone to contradict him. “But they were jerks and we’re better off without them.”

Durnan made a sympathetic noise, “Sometimes that’s how it goes. As for finding a new party—there are usually a handful of people looking to get their feet wet that show up every night around sundown. At your level of skill, you could get a group of them and set yourself up as the leader—might have to take some jobs that are below your usual pay grade until they get more experienced. As for more advanced groups—Jack over there has been looking for a spell slinger to round out his crew for a while now. His group is a good one—skilled, and not in the business for the wrong reasons. I’ll introduce you if you like.”

“Oh!” Eric blinked, a little surprised that Dex’s plan was bearing fruit so soon. “If it’s not too much trouble!”

“Think nothing of it. Besides, if you go on to do great things together then I get to say I had a hand in it.” Durnan chuckled a little and strode over to the other end of the bar. As the innkeeper conversed with the man, gesturing a few times back in Eric’s direction, Eric got a good look at him.

Jack was, without a doubt, one of the most attractive people Eric had ever laid eyes on. This was saying something since Eric had spent a day and a night in the company of a faerie queen and her entourage. He had seen ethereal beauty and grace the likes of which the mortal world would never know, but the fey were beautiful in the way the most glorious aspects of nature were—you could appreciate the sunrise from a distance, but you couldn’t take it into your arms.

Jack was beautiful in a more human, potentially obtainable way—Eric noticed short dark hair, broad shoulders, sharp features, and intense pale blue eyes. He was armored elegantly but simply, with a breastplate, arm guards and greaves, and he had a longsword strapped to his waist. The armor was well fitted, so it didn’t obscure the fact that his body was solid with lean muscle in a way that Eric was definitely appreciating.

Jack and Durnan concluded their conversation, and Jack started over in Eric’s direction with an easy grace, one hand resting on his sword’s pommel. Jack gave Eric an obvious once over as he approached, taking him in, and Eric did his best not to blush.

Dex fluttered up next to Eric’s ear and whispered, “Just so you know—he’s been totally stealing glances at you since you came in.”

Eric was definitely blushing now, and Jack was standing right in front of him, extending his hand.

“Bittle, right? I’m Jack Zimmermann.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dex explained that I had managed to find the court of The Flawless Queen and that I was welcome to an audience with her and that she might be willing to help me out.”
> 
> “It was pretty obvious he needed it. He looked like he went one on one with a dire shrub and lost.”
> 
> Bittle rolled his eyes, “I may have fallen down a hill and into some mud while running from the owlbear. It’s a miracle I didn’t lose the apples.”
> 
> Jack had to shake his head and chuckle, “Running for your life and you didn’t even drop the apples. Are you that dogged in the pursuit of all your quests, Bittle? Or just the ones related to pie?”

Jack spotted him immediately as he came in because he’d had one eye on the door. He wasn’t watching it for paranoid reasons, he didn’t think; not yet anyways. Jack knew that despite being retired for more than two decades, his father still considered it good sense to avoid sitting with his back to a door—even in the safety of his own home. It was different for Jack, though—he couldn’t take the precautions of someone constantly under threat without his anxiety convincing him that there must actually be something out there to be afraid of. It’s early enough in his career as an adventurer that he can still compartmentalize like this—just sit in a tavern and relax without constantly being alert for threats. He intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

(Besides, his brain helpfully supplied, if you want to worry about something then pay attention to hole in the floor that leads to one of the most dangerous dungeons in all of Faerun.)

So, he wasn’t obsessing, he was just keeping an eye out for the person he was going to be meeting today. The man that came in wasn’t him, but he _was_ interesting, so Jack let his gaze linger. He was about six inches shorter than Jack, had golden hair and an expressive face. Jack decided that he looked a little nervous, but Jack knew that he wasn’t the best judge of these sort of things. The man’s up-turned nose and large brown eyes had the effect of emphasizing his youthful good looks, though Jack thought that he was only a few years younger than himself. He wasn’t wearing armor and his clothes weren’t that fancy, but he looked put together in a way that reminded Jack of his mother on the days where practicality was the primary concern. He also looked like he was carrying everything he owned on his back, which—considering their current location—was a dead giveaway that he was an adventurer of some type.

People’s feelings and motivations were usually a complete mystery to Jack, but it was second nature to evaluate what someone might bring to the table in a fight. The man had the build of an agile fighter, but the fact that the only items he has close at hand are a beaded pouch and book let Jack conclude that he was a mage of some kind. Jack knew that some practitioners took up the adventuring lifestyle while still neglecting to train their bodies, and he found that he approved of this man’s obvious dedication to maintaining his fitness.

_I wonder if he’s looking for a group_. Jack himself has been on the lookout for someone to provide arcane support to his party, and he had to admit that he found something about the man strangely compelling. As he moved into the center of the room, drawn to the pit that led to the Undermountain, Jack noticed that he wasn’t alone. A small winged person the size of the man’s head hovered in the space near him—he thought it was one of the fey (A pixie? A sprite?), which was an odd sight even in a metropolis as cosmopolitan Waterdeep. Any speculation about the nature of their relationship was derailed when the man bent over at the waist to look down into the well. The man’s cream-colored woolen leggings looked warm, but they also left little to the imagination and Jack had to jerk his eyes away once he realized where his gaze was lingering. His face was burning, and he pretended to be interested in his glass of water as Durnan struck up a conversation with the man.

_So, it’s like that. Shitty would probably be overjoyed._ After his humiliating rejection by the Purple Dragon Knights two years ago, Jack had decided that the only thing he could afford to focus on was mastering the sword and building his reputation as an adventurer. He had practically lived as an ascetic during his year in Waterdeep, but it had _worked_. He had advanced his skill with a blade by leaps and bounds and established a solid reputation outside of who his parents were or what mistakes he had made back home in Cormyr. His friends were weird (they went by nicknames like _Shitty_ and _Lardo_, for one) but they were skilled adventurers and most importantly they cared about Jack—not that he was the son of famous Cormyrian adventurers, or that he had almost ruined his life—almost lost it.

Jack liked to tell himself that the only downsides to shutting out everything that didn’t contribute directly to his goals were the concerned looks from his friends and occasional awkward heart to heart with Shitty about not punishing himself for past mistakes; Jack hadn’t thought he was really denying himself anything though, especially when it came to companionship. He treasured his friends, but he hadn’t really _noticed_ anyone since he had left Cormyr.

Until now.

Jack wasn’t sure how he felt about that—especially the idea of acting on his attraction. Six months ago, if the thought had even registered, Jack thinks he would have worried that it would be a distraction that would threaten everything that he had built. Especially the idea of it being with another adventurer—what if he was already in a party and they rarely got to see each other? Could he handle it if they were in the same party? Jack wasn’t sure. He knew he was getting ahead of himself—he hadn’t even spoken to the man yet, didn’t even know his name. But for probably the first time, Jack seriously pondered the question of dating (anyone, he told himself, not just this specific person) while still pursuing his career as a hero.

_Maybe Shitty’s speeches about finding joy in everyday things are finally making an impact._ He knew that it was possible for interparty relationships to work—his parents had journeyed together for a long time before retiring to have Jack. Shitty and Lardo had danced around their attraction for each other for months before committing to a relationship. With Kent, his one romantic relationship, it had been in the context of the Cormyrian military which wasn’t dissimilar to being party members. That had been a heady mix of rivalry and shared purpose and the idea that they were working together towards the same goal had been a large part of why it worked. It was also why they had fallen apart, when Jack’s mistakes had forced their paths to diverge. Maybe it would be better to be with someone who could sit safely on the sidelines, away from all the madness and danger that came with his chosen profession.

Jack sighed—Shitty would encourage him to talk to the man, he was sure. The last thing he had said before leaving on a week-long romantic getaway with Lardo had been “Do something fun while we’re gone—playing with your sword doesn’t count!” They would be back in two days and so far, all he had done is read in his room, spar and meet with potential clients. His friends would be happy that he had put himself out there, and even if Jack didn’t hit it off with the stranger it didn’t hurt to get to know your fellow adventurers. For all Jack knew, the man could be new and town and in need of a friendly face. For all he knew, the man _could_ be looking for a new party and would be a perfect fit with the Drakeguard.

Jack resolved to make his introductions as soon as Durnan concluded his conversation. While he waited, he couldn’t help but sneak a few glances over at the man, noticing first his radiant smile and then watching it collapse into withdrawn sadness. Jack frowned himself, and felt his heroic instincts give a twitch. Part of being an adventurer was sticking your nose in when you thought someone needed help. Jack decided that this was just another reason to talk to the man. Jack noticed that Durnan was gesturing in his direction, and then he was walking over.

“Jack, I think I’ve got someone you might be interested in. That is, if you’re still looking to replace your Wizard?”

Jack nodded. This was good, if Durnan was implying what Jack thought he was.

Durnan gestured back towards the man, “That is Eric Bittle, he’s new in town and just had a falling out with the rest of his adventuring party. Says he’s looking for a new one and from what he says he’s around your skill level—says he can cast Hypnotic Pattern and Fly, among other things.”

That was… pretty much perfect, if Jack was to be honest. His party even had experience taking advantage of the mesmerizing effects of the Hypnotic Pattern spell, since it had been one of the best spells their old wizard, Johnson, had been capable of. Jack nodded, trying not to look too eager, “I’m interested.”

Durnan leaned in closer and his voice dropped, “He seems pretty tore up about how things went down with his old party. If you can get the story out of him gentle-like, give me a heads up if there's anything I need to worry about, yeah? They’ll show their faces around here sooner or later, if they haven’t already.” Durnan glanced down at Bittle and continued, “And Jack… well, I suppose you’re the last person I need to warn about getting taken in by a pretty face. He seems like a nice enough fellow, but there's always a chance that his old crew was in the right. Be careful.”

Jack just barely managed to avoid making a face. He knew that his stoic nature was part of his reputation, and that it even attracted certain clients, but he hadn’t expected Durnan of all people to make a comment about his usual lack of interest. Well, the man didn’t need to know that he was considering changing his stance on romantic entanglements. As Jack stood and moved to go talk to Bittle, he gave him another once over.

Definitely considering it, he decided. He let a small smile steal onto his face, and he extended his hand.

“Bittle, right? I’m Jack Zimmermann.”

“Hello, Jack! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The smile from earlier was back but Jack wasn’t sure how genuine it was, considering. They shook hands, and Bittle gestured to the small creature accompanying him. “This is Dex, my familiar and oldest friend.”

Dex let out a melodious alto ‘hello’ and held out his fist to bump—the gesture was casual, but his expression was intense. Jack settled onto the stool next to Bittle and tapped his knuckles against Dex’s fist, only to jerk his hand back when he felt the faint tingle of magic. Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, not sure what to think.

“Uh…”

Bittle loomed over his familiar, jabbing him sharply in the shoulder and talking quickly in a harsh low voice. His face was flushed from either anger or embarrassment. “Dex! Tell me you did not just do what I think you did!”

“Chyeah, of course I did.” Dex crossed his arms and looked up at Jack with an evaluating gaze.

“Why are you like this? You can’t just invade people’s privacy like that!”

“I had to make sure he was good enough for you.”

“That’s why we were gonna have a conversation!” Bittle’s accent was getting thick, “For all he knows you could be workin’ on his mind, tryin’ to trick him.”

“If he thinks I’ve charmed him then he’s dumber than he looks.”

Jack didn’t feel like his mind was being influenced, but he knew from experience that he wouldn’t be able to tell. Either way, he decided it was time he participated in this conversation again, so he straightened his posture and put on what Shitty called his ‘I Mean Business’ face and rapped his knuckles sharply on the bar top to draw everyone’s attention.

“How about you explain what you did, and I’ll decide if I’m upset that you did it.” Bittle visibly wilted at Jack’s steely tone and expression, but Dex was unrepentant when he spoke.

“I’m a sprite, so when I touch someone, I can read their heart. I happen to be _really_ good at it.”

“You read my mind?” Jack had some things that he would prefer not to bring up until everyone knew each other better—his attraction to Bittle, the story of how he left Cormyr in disgrace—but it wasn’t like he harbored any deep, dark secrets.

Dex made the universal hand sign for ‘kind of’. “It’s more like I sensed your nature—the building blocks of your personality. The kinds of things that you value and what sort of person you are. You know, good or bad.”

“I think most people are a little more complicated than ‘good’ or ‘bad’.”

“I know that better than anyone, I just happen to also be a bit of a judgmental bastard.” Dex settled back on his heels, and his wings drooped a bit. Jack had no idea how to interpret the expression on his face. “I know it’s not going to mean much coming from me at this point, but you don’t need to worry Jack—you’re one of the good ones.”

He was right—it didn’t mean much. Jack didn’t doubt that he was on the right path—he had confirmation from his own convictions, as well as the opinions of friends he trusted—but a vote of confidence based on something so immaterial as a feeling from a fleeting touch didn’t really land solidly the way it would have coming from someone who _really_ knew him. He had to wonder though—maybe it would mean something to Bittle. Jack glanced at Bittle to try and gauge his reaction, but Dex continued talking, so Jack turned his attention back to the sprite.

“Anyways, I would sit here and talk at length about all the good things I see in each of you—how selfless Eric is, or how dedicated you are—but I can tell that it wouldn’t do either of you any good. He would immediately bend over backwards to say I was exaggerating, and you don’t really value anything you feel you haven’t earned yourself, so… I think I’ll get a drink.” With that he buzzed off to where Durnan was standing, leaving Jack and Bittle staring at each other in awkward silence.

After a beat, Bittle spoke, hesitant. “Sorry about all of that. I know I said he’s my familiar but he’s really his own person. More like a grumpy brother trying to look out for me than any kind of servant.” He made a vaguely disgusted face when he said ‘servant’, like the idea of having such an unbalanced relationship with Dex was repellant.

“Well… he was right that I like to earn my victories, so I guess I’ll believe that he really was just evaluating my character and not… anything else.” Jack let his expression soften. “Does his approval make you feel any better about potentially working with me?”

“It does, actually. At the very least it means he wouldn’t be constantly pestering me about how I could do better.” Bittle’s mouth quirked with a little grin, but he didn’t meet Jack’s gaze.

“Then I guess I’m not too upset that he did it. I’m certainly not going to hold it against you.”

“That’s… I’m glad.” Eric let out a sigh, and he finally met Jack’s eye again. “For what it’s worth, even though he never approved of my last party he didn’t try to use what he knew against them. He only really ever talks about it to try and encourage me.”

Part of Jack wanted to ask if Bittle believed what Dex said about him. Dex had hinted that he might not, and it reminded Jack oddly of his relationship with his father. He’d always been more than supportive of Jack, but for the longest time Jack’s anxiety and insecurity had caused him to doubt the honesty of those words. He had been so certain that they came from a place of obligation instead of genuine feeling. If Bittle was anything like Jack, though, this wasn’t something that could be fixed by a few words from someone you just met. He would let it rest for now.

Jack glanced over to where Dex was conversing with Durnan.

“How did you meet him? Did you summon him?” Jack turned his whole body, so he was facing Bittle. Bittle turned to face him as well.

“No, nothing like that. I met him the same way I met my patron—I got lost in the woods.”

“You’re a warlock?”

Bittle nodded.

Jack knew that warlocks were mages who gained their power from a bargain with a powerful supernatural entity. He wasn’t opposed to working with someone like that—depending on the nature of the bargain and who it was with.

“Do you mind if I ask who your patron is?”

Bittle sat up straight, placed his hand over his heart and closed his eyes with what Jack thought was a reverent expression, “It is my pleasure to serve The Flawless Queen, muse of muses, the first bard and greatest artist among the faerie nobility.”

Jack wished he could say he recognized who he was talking about, but he could only smile sheepishly, “I’ve never heard of her.”

Bittle reached over and patted his hand, “I’m not too surprised you don’t know her name, but you’ve certainly heard songs _about_ her before. _I Saw Her Dancing in the Meadow_? _Hair as Black as Night_?”

Jack nodded. Both songs were old beyond reckoning but still popular among the Cormyran infantry.

“She’s been inspiring artists since the beginning, and all kinds of folk songs are about her, or mention her. I only knew her name before I met her because of a bard who stayed with my family for spell when I was younger.”

“Then you didn’t seek her out to try and make a deal?”

“Not at all. I just wanted to make a pie.”

“A pie?” Jack quirked his eyebrow.

“I like to cook—baking especially, and pies are my specialty. They were practically an obsession back then—that’s why I was in the forest in the first place.”

“This is starting to sound like quite the story. Tell it to me?”

Something like surprise flitted across Bittle’s face, but then he smiled. “Well, if you’re interested…”

With that, Bittle launched into a long winded, rambling recounting of his first adventure. He was good at telling stories, and spoke like they were longtime friends, drawing Jack in with warm glances and occasionally diverting from the tale to ask Jack questions about himself. (“What’s your favorite pie?” “I don’t know.” “I reckon we’ll have to do something about that if we’re to be friends” “I’d like that.”) Jack was so charmed he found himself relaxing enough to gently tease Bittle, much in the way he did with Shitty and Lardo; to Jack’s delight, Bittle often responded in kind. Jack couldn’t tell if they were flirting or not, but he was enjoying himself.

The story went that one of the courting gifts his paternal grandmother (“Moo Maw?” “That’s what we call her, yes.”) had received from her eventual husband was a bushel of apples harvested by hand from a forgotten orchard in the Cormanthor forest. These apples had been baked into a pie so delicious it was still spoken of with reverent tones decades later. When his grandparents’ anniversary was approaching, Bittle got it into his head that he needed to recreate the famous pie to commemorate the event, and so resolved to gather the apples himself. (“You know there are monsters in that forest, eh?” “I wasn’t going to let that stop me.”) He got as much information as he could from his grandfather and then set out—it was two days across the hills to reach the forest, where he camped at the edge overnight. (“The trees were so _big._” “Maybe compared to you.” “Hush, not everyone can be built like a barn.”) Bittle managed to find the orchard and get the apples without incident, but on his way back he ran into an owlbear and got turned around in his wild escape. (“I’m impressed you outran it.” “I’m full of surprises, Mr. Zimmermann.”) He wandered the woods until it started getting dark, when he noticed some lights off in the distance.

At this point Dex returned with a shot glass full of what looked like cider, “Have you gotten to the part where I show up yet?” He pulled what looked like a carved acorn off his own miniature pack and scooped some of the cider into it.

“I was just about to. Did you know Jack, he did the same thing to me that he did to you? There I was, wondering if I should go towards the lights or not when I felt something tingle against the back of my neck. I spun around, nearly jumping out of my skin and there Dex was.”

“For the record, it was my duty to vet petitioners before they made it to the queen’s encampment—make sure they’re worth my Queen’s time. It’s not like I read every person I meet.”

“Bittle was worthy?”

“Hell yeah.” Dex sipped from his cup. “The Queen spends time on this plane so that mortal artists in search of inspiration or just wanting to pay homage can visit her. This was the first time I’d ever heard of a pâtissier seeking her out, but I could tell he was just as dedicated as any skilled painter or singer. And, well… you’ll see. Tell the story, Eric.”

“Dex explained that I had managed to find the court of The Flawless Queen and that I was welcome to an audience with her and that she might be willing to help me out.”

“It was pretty obvious he needed it. He looked like he went one on one with a dire shrub and lost.”

Bittle rolled his eyes, “I _may_ have fallen down a hill and into some mud while running from the owlbear. It’s a miracle I didn’t lose the apples.”

Jack had to shake his head and chuckle, “Running for your life and you didn’t even drop the apples. Are you that dogged in the pursuit of all your quests, Bittle? Or just the ones related to pie?”

Eric’s mouth lifted in a playful grin, and his eyes danced. “Want to know a secret?”

“Always.”

“When things get really rough, I make a promise to myself that if I can make it through this, I’m going to bake a pie as a reward to myself. That way _every_ quest can be about pie, if only just a little bit.”

Jack let himself laugh. Bittle was charming. Jack was charmed.

They lapsed into silence for a long moment then, just looking at each other, and Jack had to marvel that it wasn’t awkward. He felt an easy camaraderie with Bittle in a way that was different from any friend he’d had before. Jack was just hoping that Bittle felt it too, and the look on his face—a soft smile—hinted that he might.

Dex coughed into the silence, breaking the spell. “The story?”

Bittle’s eyes widened fractionally, and he finally looked away. “Right! Of course. Where was I? Oh yes, the Queen. Now, I was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs about meeting her all messed up as I was from running through the forest, but I couldn’t see how I was going to find my way home without help…”

Bittle explained how he approached the encampment and detailed the wonders he saw there—dozens of silk pavilions in a riot of colors and patterns, lit by glowing orbs that were like stars plucked from the night sky. Then there were the fey themselves, each of them like a work of living art; some were wreathed in flames, while others looked carved from ice or wood or marble. Others had the features of beasts—fur, feathers, horns or antlers—and were beautiful in their wildness.

Each was practicing or observing some form of art—there was painting, sculpting and carving; some played instruments, while others sang and danced. As Dex led Bittle through the camp towards the most brightly lit area, the faeries broke off what they were doing and rose to follow behind, talking amongst themselves.

“What were they saying?” Jack wondered.

“They were taking bets on if Eric was going to juggle all of those apples at once.”

Eric rolled his eyes, but continued without comment, his voice deepening in reverence.

It soon became apparent that the source of the light was The Queen herself, who was seated before a golden loom and weaving a tapestry out of thread that shone and glimmered with magic. She sang softly as she wove, her voice so rich and clear that it stilled the worry in Bittle’s heart. Her hair and skin were dark, and she glowed with a golden radiance as if the setting sun was still in the sky and shone down on her, causing the many jewels on her dress and in her hair to spark with an inner fire.

“I had been fairly certain that, Sune willing, I’d end up with a man one day, but it was nice to put the question to rest. If she didn’t catch my eye, no woman would.”

Said with a different tone, that statement could have been flirtatious or even an invitation. Bittle had said it casually, maybe too casually, and his eyes were alert and closely gauging Jack’s reaction.

Jack took it for a test.

But how to respond? He drank the last of his water to buy time. It seemed inappropriate to hint at his own potential interest, but he didn’t want to send the signal that he _couldn’t_ be interested. Should he mention Kent? No, that was a terrible idea. Bittle was probably nervous about how his confession might be received, what was important was reassuring him.

“That seems, uh, useful. There was some confusion on my part when I was younger before I realized that I liked both, or, well… all?”

Dex muttered something that sounded like “smooth” into his cup, and Bittle shot him a glare before flashing Jack what seemed like a genuine smile.

Jack swallowed a little nervously, “Anyways, it's not an issue for me or my party. Our paladin will probably try to set you up with someone, but if you ask him to stop, he will. I can speak from experience.”

Eric reached out and briefly touched his hand before his mouth quirked into a grin, “Does he actually serve Lady Firehair or does he think the goddess of love can’t manage on her own?”

“He’s devoted to Lliira, so he’s all about inspiring joy in people’s lives. He’s always telling me, ‘Jack, you need to kindle the light in your heart’ and while he’s not wrong, I don’t think I need to burn that particular candle at both ends the way he does.”

“Oh?”

“He gets _very_ into festival days.”

Bittle laughed brightly and touched Jack’s hand again. Jack didn’t want to read too much into it, but he hoped he would keep doing it.

“You’re supposed to celebrate those!”

“He puts just as much effort and zeal into enjoying himself as he does fighting when our lives are on the line. He never holds anything back – I admire that about him.”

“He sounds like quite the character. I’d like to meet him, and anyone else in your party.”

“Of course. There’s him and one more, our artificer. They’re both out of town on a romantic getaway together. I think they’d both like you a lot.”

Bittle’s gaze grew distant and his response was slow, “That would be nice.”

Jack remembered what Durnan had said about Bittle’s original party and he almost wanted to take his words back. They were true, though. Shitty and Lardo would be delighted to meet this bright, pie baking warlock with his outgoing nature and rustic charm.

Jack was trying to think of a way to draw Bittle out of his introspection, but Dex was already on it. Jack was glad that they had each other, at least; that even if things didn’t go the way he was hoping, Eric wouldn’t be alone.

Dex fluttered over to where Bittle was pressed up against the bar and leaned back against him and tilted his head up to speak, “You know, you never finished your story.”

Jack nodded, “I’m curious what you said to her. I’m not sure I could string two words together if I were in your situation.”

Bittle’s expression cleared, much to Jack’s relief and he took on that reverent look he got when he spoke of his patron.

“I thought the same thing! But the thing is – she _is_ inspiration. The living incarnation of it!”

Jack was sure his expression reflected his confusion.

Bittle chuckled, “Ironically, if she were here, explaining this would be easy. You’d also just… understand. Hmm…”

Bittle cast his eyes upwards, searching for the words before he continued.

“Everyone has a truth, or truths in their heart. Stuff like who they really are as a person, what they want out of life, what they think about the world, or what they’re trying to express through their art if they’re an artist. Why I was obsessed with pies. Maybe why you became an adventurer? Those truths are there – they have to be, but they’re elusive. It can be uncomfortable to confront them, and even if you’re dedicated to trying to suss them out it can be hard – the work of years, or a lifetime!”

Bittle was getting excited now, animated. Jack nodded to show he was following along.

“And say you do figure it out eventually. How do you express that to someone else in a way that is true but they can understand? How do you become brave enough to try? That’s what art is really, attempting to express those truths you see in yourself or in the world. Not everyone has the luxury of being able to hone their craft like that, but when you’re with The Flawless Queen... when she looks at you…”

Bittle’s eyes were closed now, clearly lost in the memory.

“It’s a revelation. It’s like getting hit by lightning or your heart bursting into flames and you just _know_. You know exactly who you are, and what you want, and how you feel about that. What’s more, you know just how to perfectly express those truths through words, or music or painting, or whatever art you’re most familiar with. No matter how awkward you usually are, you would find the words for it, and the courage to say them.”

Bittle trailed off.

“That sounds…” Harrowing, Jack thought. Terrifying even.

Jack wasn’t sure he could survive that experience, as he was now.

He could see the allure though – a direct confrontation appealed to the part of him that was a warrior. One climactic battle to decide everything instead of the drawn-out guerilla war that he had been fighting for as long as he could remember. How many times had Jack wished that he could make his inner demons something physical that he could fight with blade in hand? This was the closest thing he had found to that idle fantasy. Jack rubbed his hand across his face and swallowed hard. His voice was thick, uncertain.

“What if you’re not ready? What if you don’t like what you see?”

Bittle looked solemn at that. Could he tell what Jack was thinking?

Dex spoke up, “That’s why I would check petitioners out before they met The Queen. I don’t see nearly that much, but I see enough to usually tell if they can handle it. Still though… it’s not for the faint hearted.”

The knowledge that Dex had looked into his heart, however briefly, and probably thought that he could endure The Queen’s revelation was tangled like a wire in Jack’s throat. He couldn’t even begin to try and unwind it. Bittle spoke up again, before Jack could get too lost in his thoughts.

“I won’t lie; I immediately burst into tears. It was a lot, but it was good. It put a lot of things in perspective. I knew what I wanted.”

Jack raised his eyes to meet Bittle’s, pushing his inner turmoil aside, “What was that?”

“I wanted to be able to help people, in a real way. Not to belittle the small ways I had been, but I wanted to do the big stuff. Saving lives, righting wrongs. Only, I was completely convinced that I could never do something like that. I couldn’t cut it in the Featherdale Militia, and we didn’t have the money or the opportunity for me to learn magic. I also knew I wasn’t much for studying, even if I did have that chance. I was desperate for some way to help out and I just sort of latched on to making food as an outlet.”

Bittle looked away, and Jack couldn’t read his expression. Chagrin? Shame? Jack could see no reason for either of those things.

“I told myself that when the militia were out running off bandits or goblins or the like, the least that they deserved was to come home to something good to eat. It’s a good thing cooking was something I actually enjoyed, or it could have messed me _right_ up. Well, more’n it did.”

Now Bittle was the one who looked lost in thought.

Dex’s voice was quiet, but emphatic, “You’re not messed up.”

Bittle gave the sprite a crinkly eyed smile and reached out a finger to touch his hand. Jack let them have their moment, wondering a little at the fact that Bittle could be so open about this with someone he had just met. Was it just that Dex had said he had a good heart? Or did it mean something more? Eventually Bittle looked up again and his face was clear.

“Once I stopped crying, she opened a magic portal to her palace and I got cleaned up. We baked a pie together. I poured out all my hopes and dreams and she must have seen something in me, because she offered to make me her champion; give me her magic if I would use it to spread inspiration in the world. She said Dex could come with me, if he wanted.”

Dex smirked, “Of course I wanted, that pie was fucking incredible. If your pies that weren’t inspired by absolute revelation and ultimate catharsis were even half as good, I’d be a fool to pass it up.”

Eric scoffed and aimed a gentle smack at the sprite, who nimbly dodged with a laugh. He settled with a more serious tone.

“For real though. Anything the Queen saw in you; I saw it first.”

Bittle blushed, obviously pleased.

Jack was impressed, and he said as much, his admiration almost assuredly leaking into his tone.

“People become adventurers for a lot of reasons. Too often they’re after gold or glory and lose sight of what it really means to be a hero. Even me… I want to help people, but for me it’s at least as much about proving myself, perfecting myself…”

Jack trailed off. He was sure now that Durnan’s warnings were unfounded, and that whoever Bittle’s former party members were, that they were at best fools. He also felt certain that if he had the chance to get to know Bittle better, his physical attraction would blossom into something much more complicated, but maybe also something beautiful.

_He’s just so… good. How do I tell him that?_

“What I mean to say is, I think your heart is in the right place and that’s special. I think any party you join would be lucky to have you, mine included.”

Rather than its intended effect, this statement caused Bittle’s expression to once again cloud over with doubt. Jack silently cursed himself for a fool.

“Intentions don’t mean much without actions to back them up.”

That was a riddle of a statement, and while he wanted to stay and puzzle it out – find the root of the dark vine twisted around Bittle’s heart and pull it out, his attention was pulled away by a man who approached them. It was the contact he was planning on meeting today.

Part of him wanted to blow the man off and keep talking to Bittle; their conversation had carved a little pocket into the world where Jack wasn’t constantly worried about the future and if he was good enough, but the inertia of his year long journey to build his reputation and prove himself was too great to overcome. He couldn’t afford to anger someone so influential. He’d have other chances with Bittle, he’d make sure of it. He gestured the man over to a table and then turned back to Bittle.

“Listen, I have to go deal with this now. But I liked talking with you and want to do it again. I can introduce you to other groups of adventurers, or show you around the city? Where are you staying?”

Bittle looked uncertain, “Here I guess, if Durnan will buy my healing potion.”

Dex spoke up, “Our last party stole Eric’s share of the party gold when they left. That's why we’re looking for a new group, and hopefully a job.”

Bittle looked none too pleased to have this information divulged, and while Jack was angered on Bittle’s behalf, he knew that this afforded him an opportunity. He wasn’t in the habit of missing those.

“I’m a pretty well-connected adventurer. I should be able to find a paying job suitable for the three of us by tomorrow.”

Bittle squared his shoulders, like he was bracing himself, “You don’t need to do that, Jack.”

Jack didn’t have the fabled Zimmermann charm. He didn’t bring a lot of nuance when it came to interpersonal communication, but blunt simple honesty was a kata he had perfected long ago. He met Bittle’s eyes, “I know I don’t need to, but I want to. You can consider it a trial run for when my friends get back, if you want.”

Bittle held his gaze for a long moment, searching. For pity? He would find none. Finally, he relented, “Alright. Thank you, Jack.”

Jack nodded to both of them and rapped on the bar top twice and got up to go deal with his contact. He kept an eye on Bittle while they talked, watched him exchange a vial for some coin and then head upstairs. When he came back down without his pack, he paused for a moment and their eyes met. Bittle nodded to him, and then he and Dex were out the door.

But not out of Jack’s mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I originally intended for this to just be a two-parter but there was just way too much to unpack in one conversation. That means you'll get more, eventually.
> 
> Thaniks to bigspicysenpai for looking over this chapter!
> 
> I'm pretty excited with what I did with Beyoncé as Eric's patron. Let me know if I was too subtle in indicating it was her, and what you think! Like Jack, I'm not sure if meeting her would be the greatest thing ever or the cause of my immediate demise.

**Author's Note:**

> Eric is a variant human Fey Pact Warlock with the Gourmand Feat from Unearthed Arcana: Feats.  
Dex is a free willed Sprite who agreed to adventure with Bitty back at level 1 and built as an Expert sidekick using the Unearthed Arcana: Sidekicks rules.


End file.
